Angel Saga
by Star Braginskaya
Summary: Different characters from Hetalia as angels, cast from heaven and abandoned in the human world, and demons, rotten core softened, only to learn an important lesson about humanity.


Cast out. Banished. Discarded. Forsaken. No longer welcome in the celestial palace known to the mortal world as heaven.

How could they? How DARE they? The other angels and even God himself-

Ivan spat on the ground, thinking over his predicament while listening to gravel crunch under his boots. He'd just fly around, but his rough decent left him a few feathers shorter than he would care to risk without. So he was stuck on foot, forced to the same level as the humans he so despised and envied.

People. Such wasteful beings. They used and used and took and took and wasted and wasted. What good did their petty squabbles do? Maybe a victor was named, but with such finite lifespans... Was it worth it? Really, just ephemeral creatures. Impudent, ephemeral creatures.

Ivan didn't get it. He didn't see the good in people who the others saw. Violet orbs had once too many times been cast upon lies, waste, theft, suicide, rape, and murder. He saw beings so entwined with sin that they were constantly at each other's throats. Pitiful creatures that could only hope for their heavenly father's redemption, which he always gave to his children, as a way to salvation.

Okay. So maybe he was a little jealous. Heaven was a paradise, but as a soul collector... The fallen angel had only been allowed glimpses of within. And Earth, with its few untouched beauties, wasn't somewhere he could linger and relax. Why did humans, in all their imperfections, get to experience so much bliss when they couldn't even enjoy it?

Ivan found himself in a town; his form was just of a forsaken man. Each individual saw the angel differently, yet none spoke to him. He stopped and leaned against a lamp-post, taking in the wretchedness of humanity. It was then, that he found a lesson to learn.

It was a child. A boy who didn't quite reach the angel's waist had come over with bright and curious eyes. His hair was a light blond and his eyes, a rich blue. In his hands were a few brownish-tan quill-tipped feathers. "Excuse me, mister." He said boisterously, the awe for the sight before him. "Did you lose these?"

Ivan looked down at the child who was dirty and unclean, very thin and very pale. Yet, despite these shortcomings, his grin was ever-present and his demeanor was bright. The angel was baffled. The child must not have known the state he was in... But more importantly, how did the kid know those were his? A moment's observation noticed those wide orbs sliding over the frames of his wings. Huh...

"Yes, I did. But it doesn't matter now. I can't use them. They fell out."

"Fell out?" The boy repeated, holding them up and inspecting them with a newfound interest now.

"Yes. Fell out. And I can't put them back." Ivan doubted he'd ever fly again. Feathers were an angel's show of holiness. The only way to get them back was for God to grace them. And the being knew he wasn't going to get blessed again.

"Do they grow back?"

"No. They don't."

"Can you fly without them?"

"I cannot."

"Oh... Does it hurt?" The child lifted his eyes to meet violet ones, brow wrinkling a little.

The angel was actually a little surprised by the question. Since angels couldn't lie, he answered calmly. "It did-"

The boy shook his head a little. "That's not what I meant. Does it hurt, not being able to fly?"

A moment of pause filled the air before a black-gloved hand touched his own chest, right above his heart. "A little, yes."

The child motioned a little, a gesture to bring his face closer to the shorter height. Ivan obliged. A small pair of lips pressed against the angel's forehead, once more to his surprise.

"Mommy does that whenever I'm hurt and it always helps." His expression grew hopeful, as if the goal was to make the winged stranger feel better.

The angel couldn't find words for a moment. He'd rarely seen humans express such sentiments to each other, let alone experience this form of empathy himself... Ivan felt himself soften, hand dropping from his chest to ruffle the kid's hair affectionately. "Thank you, little one."

The boy held up the feathers in a returning gesture, offering them back to their rightful owner.

"You can keep them. I don't need them."

The child looked down at the feathers in amazement, then seemed to think it over and pouted. Selecting one with an almost golden sheen to it, the boy held it out to the stranger. "Keep this one, then."

He couldn't understand the child's logic, but Ivan carefully took the feather and held it up to the light. As he was admiring the sheen, a brilliance he, himself, didn't hold, the kid laughed a little. "I've got to go home. Mom's waiting for me. By, mister. I hope it stops hurting... And thanks for the gift~"

Ivan gave him a little wave as the boy ran off with the feathers, looking back at the one he'd received once the kid was out of sight. The wisps seemed to shimmer and gleam, purity having wrapped itself around the feather with the genuine human love in which it had been offered.

Ah- So this was what selfless kindness looks like? It was so pretty...

Maybe humans weren't /so/ bad, after all.


End file.
